I'm sorry about the 5000 instant messages. And the 500 word emails.
It's just... We were once so close. I thought I'd marry you.
The future is suddenly even more frightening without you. I thought your love was as steadfast and unshakable as mine. It certainly seemed that way for the better part of a year.
We made each other laugh so often. We had so much fun together.
But now, it's like you've managed to just forget all the good times. And over what? A few minor arguments? The fact that you seemed to think I was in charge of keeping you entertained and engaged?
You say it wasn't as though you didn't give signs that you had doubts, but I think your communication skills are lacking. After all, saying you weren't sure about what you wanted to do about the future is not the same thing as saying you weren't sure you wanted us to have a future.
Nor is looking at rings with me three days before dumping me and saying, "I love you" very indicative of your uncertainty.
I am having a great deal of difficulty believing that you haven't lost your mind yourself. Which isn't to say that I'm claiming my behaviour since the breakup has been particularly rational, but at least I think I have a pretty valid excuse. You ripped the rug right out from under me.
We never yelled at each other. Not even once. Do you know how rare that is? How amazing?
Well. Obviously not, I suppose.
I still love you, you know. Despite how very much I'm hurting. Despite how you've deliberately hurt me in the days since.
The last time I saw your face, I was going through the gate at the airport. You still loved me then, I think. How is it right or fair that you should get to break up with me via instant messenging? That you should not have to see the look on my face every time we speak? That I should be left with my last memory of your face looking heartbroken at seeing me leave?
And you continue to avoid my questions. All I want to know is if there's someone else. If there's some reason you seemed to suddenly decide you no longer love me. If you can make the claim with truth in your eyes. If you really have lost your mind. If you realized that you had never loved me at all, not really, despite acting as though you had...
It's always one of those things. Always. But you can't even say which one.
Don't you understand how worried I am? I'm scared that you are suffering from the grips of genuine mental illness. I'm scared that I'm going to lose you even more than I already have.
You were never very concerned about your hygiene. You had pushed nearly everyone away. Now you've pushed me away. And I don't know what to do. I can't be there for you if you are going through something.
And I would. I love you that much.
I told you that I didn't want to live without you. You seemed to mistake this for suicidal intent. It was not. It was simple truth. I don't want to live without you. I am not going to kill myself. I just don't want to live without you. I will. But I don't want to.
You made me so happy for so long. You walked into my life at my lowest point, and loaned me your strength when I needed it most. You turned what would have been the worst year of my life into the best. And now I'm expected to just forget that?
How could you?
How could you walk into my life and give me happiness and hope? How could you treat my daughter like your own? She still asks about you, and I don't know what to tell her. How do you explain to a little girl that the first man to love and accept her as his own isn't coming back?
I haven't told her anything, because I genuinely don't know if this is you being legitimately insane and there's a chance that you may level out and regret everything and want to come back, or if this is just you suddenly revealing your true asshole of a self and you won't answer me when I ask.
I know I should just give up. I know I should just move on. But my heart screams at me that it loves you, and doing so would be a betrayal of myself.
This isn't my first rodeo. I'm no stranger to heartbreak. I'm usually pretty damn good at picking myself up and moving on. But then, I've usually had some genuine answers from those other instances. I always knew then which of the four options it was.
Moving on, when I know, for me, it's fairly easy. But you won't tell me anything concrete.
So all I can conclude is that the only crazy one here is you. And that tears me apart in a way nothing else can. Because if you're really in the throes of mental illness... I can't do anything but urge you to get help while you're like this, and wait for you to come back to yourself. If you ever do.
And waiting is really difficult, because I still love you as much as I did when you proposed in a Subway restaurant and I loved you enough to say yes, even though it was in a frickin' Subway and we were waiting in line to order a delicious sandwich. And I'm so afraid that I will be waiting forever, unless you give me the answers I need. Unless you can look at me over the webcam (long distance is a bitch) and I can see what your face says that your words don't.
And I don't think that's too much to ask after a year and a half of devoting myself to loving you.
Sincerely,
Your "Crazy" Ex
P.S. If I'm crazy, it's because you made me that way. And yes, I still love you, and yes, I'm pissed off at you for this. You can be angry at people while still loving them, if it's real love. And it is. For better or worse, it is.
No comments:
Post a Comment